Then Blaze lunges.
No countdown or warning. Just a flash of motion and the sound of a rabid growl ripped from his throat. At the last moment, I catch the whites of his eyes and the glint of a knife in his hand.
I scream.
My body doesn’t ask for permission. Panic surges and the Omega Command blasts out of me.
I don’t know what I say. It doesn’t matter. The effect is immediate.
Blaze’s whole body locks up, and his knees hit the groundhard.
He flicks the knife, spinning it to face him, and plunges it under his collarbone.
I scream again.
Blood wells and spills around the blade.
“No!” My voice cracks, raw and high, and choked on a sob. I shove at the Command, try to pull it back like it’s a poisonI could spit out in reverse. But it’s too late. The Command has been fulfilled, and the damage has been done.
Blaze blinks, his eyes clearing like he’s just surfaced from a deep dive. He wrenches the knife out of his chest and drops it.
The room smells like my fear and Blaze’s blood.
I crawl to him, my shaking hands darting over his chest, tearing at his black compression shirt. There is a lot of blood, and my fingers are slick with it. Blaze wipes at the flesh with the back of his sleeve, and I blink dumbly at the already sealed wound. It’s just a pink line of freshly healed skin.
I know he’s an Alpha. That a stab wound isnothingto him. But my heart won’t stop pounding.
Blaze looks up at me, smile crooked, like I haven’t just forced him to stab himself. “You’re bloody brilliant,” he says, already reaching for me. “Fucking knew you had it in you. You did great.”
“No.” My voice is quiet now. Small. “No, I didn’t mean to...”
The others congratulate me. Proud that I defended myself so effectively. They praise my quick reflexes and how powerful my Command is.
I don’t share their joy. I feel sick to my stomach.
I still don’t know what words I said. They didn’t come from me, I’m certain. They came from thisthinginside me. My Command. I could have easily have told Viper to pull his gun and shoot Blaze in the forehead. He would have done it. The Command is too powerful. I could have killed my mate today.
Blaze spends the rest of the day being Blaze. Makes jokes, calls me Sparkles, does a handstand off a crumbling stone wall and pretends to sprain something until I kiss it better. He’s trying to make me laugh.
I don’t laugh. I can’t bring myself to feel anything but horror.
Viper sits cross-legged in front of me, calm and focused.
I’m the opposite. I’m a ball of vibrating tension. My jaw aches from clenching. My shoulders are locked up so tight it feels like I’m holding my own skeleton hostage.
I didn’t sleep last night. No matter how comfortable and cozy the nest is with my Pack, I couldn’t shake the sickly feeling in my gut.
My Command acted without my control. It barked words that could have killed Blaze.
“Stop trying to dominate it,” Viper says, voice low and steady. “The Command isn’t something outside of you that needs to be controlled. It’s part of you. You don’t force it. You guide it.”
I don’t agree.
I know Blaze would never have hurt me yesterday. Not really. Even when he was acting feral, the worst he did was give me a little scratch.
He still scares me sometimes, sure, but he wouldn’t have gone as far as stabbing me. I believe that.
So why did my Command react like he was a real threat? It didn’t hesitate. It just struck.
